The Last Time
by cheekybeak
Summary: Legolas and Elrohir share a moment of farewell before the Fellowship depart Rivendell. And then a Reunion in Rohan when the Grey Company joins the fight.
1. Farewell

**Authors note: **Something quite different from my usual writing. No humour in this so apologies if it is not what you expected!

This is my Legolas and Elrohir trying to say goodbye before the quest to destroy the one ring. If you have read them in my other stories you will know they usually don't let others see them being quite so deep and meaningful!

The Last Time.

He reached out and touched his lover's face. Fingers swept across soft warm skin.  
They traced the brows above unfocused eyes, brushed over beautiful lips parted in sleep.

Of what did he dream? The wood, dappled sunlight, browns and greens?  
His friends, lightness and joy? Or did he dream of him...of them?

He closed his own eyes, placed his hand gently over a smooth cheek and remembered.

The first look, their first touch, first kiss. He wished to hold it all, the feel of this skin against his, within his heart.

Someone spoke his name, a bright pair of eyes met his gaze.

"What are you doing?"

"Remembering you."  
A slender hand reached up to cover his.

"I am still here."

He could not speak, overcome with fear and loss. He turned his head and broke their look before he was undone.

"I am afraid." The words spilled out though he rushed to contain them. It was spoken between them now and made real.

Hands cupped his face gently turning it to look into the eyes of the one he so adored. To never see the beauty of this again... he could not bear the thought of it.

"I will return."

"You cannot promise that even though I know you wish to."

"Ever have we been apart, farewelled each other into danger. This is not so different is it? It is what we do, have always done."

"I am tired of it." and he was. So very tired of being without him.

"Then this will be the last time."

And his walls collapsed. The tears contained behind them fell, streaming down his face, he was weak yet he felt no shame.

The last time... time rushed on, determined and unstoppable, despite his desperate need to hold it back, cease its flow. A day of last times beckoned.  
The last time they spoke, the last touch. The last time they kissed, they loved, they slept.

The last time he heard that laugh, saw that smile, perhaps he had missed them already.

Strong arms embraced him and pulled him close. Was this the last time he would be held like this. Feel that heartbeat next to his, that soft hair falling across his face.

"You have never tried to cage me and I love you for it." The words brushed his ear and filled his heart.

" I have never tried to cage you," he replied, " It would break you, I would lose you." The crushing endless pain of grief bore down upon him.

"But now, I wish I could.

Oh...I wish I could."


	2. Reunion

**Authors Note: ****_When I first wrote "The Last Time" I always wanted to write a companion piece of Legolas and Elrohir reunited when the Grey Company arrived in Rohan. Here it is._**

_**The Last Time was from Elrohir's perspective. **_

_**This is all Legolas.**_

A light cut as a knife through darkness and filled his heart.

A rush of exhilaration flooded his soul and lifted him towards the skies.

The lightest of breezes brushed aside the layers of weariness and grief that strangled him, to reveal the brightness of his true self once again.

For he was here.

The one he loved.

How long since he had last looked upon his face? How long since he felt his touch and heard that voice?

How unexpected this reunion as he rode to war.

He watched Him greet others more important than he, although he knew in his heart he stood above all.

And he waited.

He could not run to him, he could not cry out his joy, for here in a world of strangers they were not understood.

Yet he wondered how they did not know.

Could they not see his spirit flew upon the lightest of wings?

Could they not hear the thudding of his heart?

Could they not feel the river of his joy which flowed beyond all containment out into the world?

And so although the depths of him danced with elation and delight, with exhilaration and desire,

he was patient.

And he waited.

Then he was there, beside him, in front of him, near him. He could feel his breath as it caressed his cheek, his hair as it grazed across his face. His eyes alight with love though others would not see it. Their spirits entwined in a dance of yearning, longing, adoration, how could his companions be blind to this?

"Are you well?" It was a whisper laden worry, the heavy burden of separation and fear.

"Yes."

A murmur, barely audible to all but his love though he wanted to shout it, to scream it so all would know. To cry to the heavens 'Yes, I am well because you have come!'

There was the flash of a hand, the softest touch upon his cheek, the briefest stroke of skin on skin, then it was gone, unnoticed and unobserved.

How his skin burned where those fingers had laid and how he longed for more.

"I have missed you." That voice had echoed in his dreams as he walked across these strange, unwelcome lands. That voice which gave him purpose, and strength and love.

Then he was gone, back to his place among those he counted as his people and it was not enough, not enough, for so long they had been apart.

But it was more than he had dreamed.

And in his mind his smile was brighter than the stars, his love a beacon in the darkness.

Those who surrounded him would never know. They would never see.

It was a fire within him and nothing could defeat it. Nothing could subdue it.

He was here!


	3. Fear

**Authors Note: ****_For those of you who wanted more. The reunion in Rohan seen from Elrohir's perspective._**

Fear consumed him.

It tore at his spirit, flayed it and battered it into submission.

His heart pounded endlessly, playing out a merciless rhythm within his chest. On and on, over and over until he could hear nothing but the throb of blood in his ears.

And still they rode.

Where did they ride? What would they find? A cascade of images, all of them soul-destroying flitted ruthlessly through his mind and he realised he did not want this ride to end, he did not want to discover what might lie ahead for him.

Let him remain forever riding through the dark for then the horror of his loss would never be. Better eternal fear and trepidation than the finality of grief.

But end it must and they came upon them, shrouded in darkness and in his panic, his desperate searching he could not see. He could not see his bright hair, his glow, his love.

He must be here!

He spirit flailed against the terror and flew, searching, searching for his essence, that brilliant lightness and carefree joy that made him whole.

But panic made him blind.

All he sensed was a cacophony of noise and confusion, it drowned his senses and the ice cold certainty of loss crept upon him.

Others spoke words he could not hear, gripped his hand in welcome, exclaimed with joy at their arrival while within him swirled a chant of desperation, where is he? where is he? where is he?

He was numb with the dread of his reality.

Then he felt it. Then he saw him. A shard of light stretching towards him, love all encompassing and he let it in. A wave of relief washed fear and desperation before it and he wondered that he could still stand, that without the fear there was any of him left.

His lover stood before him, calm, joyous, illuminated with love. How did he contain it when his own self was exploding with the exhilaration of reunion?

They spoke little, they could not afford to, they did not need to for now...now he could feel him, their spirits rejoiced together, the scars of his desperation wiped away, his soul made anew.

Yet he needed to touch, to know that he was real. So long had he convinced himself of his loss the reality of his presence was hard to imagine.

A fleeting touch, the barest of caresses, a flash of heartfelt contact but it was enough. Enough to still his pounding heart, to blanket his beaten spirit in peace and gentle comfort.

There in the dark, the fear was conquered, the panic defeated.

And he could breathe.


	4. Love

**Authors Note. The last instalment in this little story. Later that evening, Legolas seeks Elrohir out when they can finally have some privacy!**

It was late and all was quiet. He should be sleeping, or at least resting yet how could he? He had to see him for he still found it hard to believe he was here. He was overrun with joy, his spirit sang with it.

Yet they had barely spoken, had but a moment before duty and convention separated them. Now all was still and men asleep. Now he would seek him out. Now they could talk and touch and be.

There was much to tell and he was no longer the same. His travels had changed him, were changing him. Would his lover notice? Would they still fit as smoothly as they did before, as if they belonged? As if there were none for the two of them except themselves?

Or would they be all discordant edges and awkwardness? He found he could not bear the thought of that. Yet he knew he was somehow different and it worried him.

Would he accept the parts of him which had been transformed?

Shadows filled the corridors and he moved as ever with grace and silence yet as he neared his destination his heart fluttered, with both excitement and unease. He yearned to see him, so long he had only had his memory to ease him and now the reality in all his glory was here within reach, but would he still be loved? Would he love in return?

Would they still be the same when so much about them was not.

He hovered outside the door uncertain, suddenly filled with trepidation, a strange and alien feeling. He should not be afraid of this, of him! He would not let his hesitation win out, he was stronger than that and his elation at the opportunity to renew what they had drove him on.

Silently he entered.

The door shut behind him with a heavy thud which echoed across the room of stone.

Torchlight flicked dappled colours across the Noldor's face as he turned to gaze upon him, as if fire licked at his very edges.

His words caught in his throat and he was transfixed by his beauty. A wave of desire surged from the silent man before him. It hit him in a rush until he was awash with it, drowning in it, enfolded and made speechless by it. How he loved him.

So much he had to say and suddenly none of it important.

His lover stared, he made not a sound and yet before he could move he was upon him. A hand reached out, entangled within his hair and pulled him near, no explanation, no permission given. Lips on his, strong, unyielding yet soft and enticing. How he burned. He was being consumed alive by this internal fire.

Hands on his body, shredding, tearing at his clothes as he did the same in desperation to feel skin. And there it was. Heat against heat, silk against silk, skin against skin. Breath merged as one and the flames surged within him, pleasure and pain, until he felt with a cry surely he could feel no more.

It was in the aftermath as they lay, entwined with a desperate need to touch, that his lover finally spoke. Soft and gentle they were then belying the hunger and need that had previously devoured them.

As he stroked his hair, kissed his lips, caressed his limbs, and held him the words were said with a sigh.

"I love you."

And he knew,

All he needed was here.


End file.
